The Lady Fitzgerald
by quibbler149
Summary: They spent their childhood together. But all good things come to an end. And no one knows that as well as Robin and Marian.
1. First Meeting

Chapter One:

The men chortled their ugly laughter.

With a last, terrified glance, Marian quietly fled from the closing door and raced for the freedom beckoning to her from outside. Her father was busy discussing matters anyway. Her presence at the banquet would not be missed.

She lifted her skirts hastily, knowing how her maid would reprimand her later should she dirty them.

Then, she stopped. Why was torturing herself so? Why shouldn't she live and fully enjoy the moment?

Defiantly, she released her skirts and watched them splash noisily into a muddy puddle at her feet.

She laughed and stomped around some more.

Her father would never understand how her mind operated. He had no idea how to communicate with children. Sometimes she felt that her five-year-old mind had more insight than his significantly older one.

The wind whipped up her mud-stained skirt and she struggled to hold down the heavy fabric.

Then, she decided to stop the pain altogether. She shrugged off the finely designed dress. Her shift blew in the wind, making her feel lighter than she ever had before.

Her father and her maid, Bernadette, would cry in horror at her actions, but she was too drunk with freedom to care.

She embraced her newly found liberty and danced around the moor like a demon-child, cries and laughter mingling into one.

Without planning where she was going, she suddenly found herself nudged against a magnificent, large oak tree. She glanced up at it admiringly. How fine it was! How tall and beautiful! The very branches seemed to lower at her feet, whispering her to climb on for a grand adventure.

Marian giggled uncertainly and hoisted herself up onto a low branch. Then, without thinking too much, she started climbing the tree, reaching for branch after branch.

It was only after she sat at the top of the tree, admiring the view, that she realized how high up she was.

Her first notion was to feel fear, but she quickly pushed that aside. Then, she felt the giddiness of disobedience and had to quell her excitement.

A rustle sounded alarmingly to her right. Marian looked carefully, but the evening light was far too dim for her to discern anything. She deduced that it must have been a stray bird flying from the tree.

Placated with her reasoning, she swung her legs, joyful in her isolation once more.

All of a sudden, a weight settled beside her.

Marian turned to look and nearly swallowed her tongue in fright.

It was a boy.

After her initial shock, Marian felt rage.

"What are you doing here?"

She glared accusingly at the boy, hoping he would see her furious expression in the diminishing moonlight. He seemed grin widely back. That just deepened her anger.

Marian stiffened her spine and arched her head arrogantly.

But the motion proved too much for her balance and she nearly swung off the branch.

Her scream died in her throat when she realized she was safe and had been stilled by the boy. Marian quickly yanked away her arm.

"I was here first, so you have to leave."

Her words rudely broke Nature's silence.

The boy eyed her warily.

"I don't feel like leaving. And I just saved your life so I think you should be more grateful."

Marian understood the logic in his words, but she was too intent on pursuing her freedom to be reasonable.

"Well, you are welcome to stay in this tree, then. But don't expect me to accompany you."

She clambered to a standing position and made her awkward exit down to the ground.

No sooner had her foot touched the grass, a thump vibrated beside her. She was shocked to see that the boy had jumped down all the way from the tree.

"I'm sorry if I offended you. That wasn't my intention."

He held out a grubby hand, his smile glinting merrily in the night's illumination.

"My name's Robin. Robin Hood."

**AN: I'm rewriting some early chapters of this story. It wasn't written very well before, so I hope it's better now. Sorry that it's still so short. Do I need to say **_**review**_**?**


	2. Continued Encounter

Chapter Two:

"Robin Hood?"

The words echoed strangely from her lips. She sniffed, suddenly feeling the night's cold catching up to her.

Suddenly, she realized she was only clothed in a shift! This was utterly improper!

The boy grinned.

Marian shook her head quickly and turned to head back before she was caught.

"Where are you going?" the so called 'Robin Hood' asked her.

"To hang myself on the oak tree" she replied without glancing back and walking faster than ever. The shame shaded a pink on her cheeks and she thanked the darkness for hiding it.

It was too bad Robin was so much quicker than her. In two seconds, he had caught up with her and grabbed both her wrists. His eyes were a lovely green. She could make out the bright colour even in the dim light.

"I told you my name. Now it's time for you to tell me yours."

Marian laughed.

"Just because you told me your name, doesn't mean I have to tell you mine! I didn't ask for your name!"

Robin eyed her with interest. His grip loosened considerably and Marian took the opportunity to snatch her hand away.

The wind whipped unforgivably at her shift.

What had seemed like freedom before was once more closing in on her.

She wanted to scream and pound away the invisible walls forever imprisoning her.

Feeling like enough had been had, Marian turned to flounce off when she came face to stomach to a gigantic man.

"Oh!" she stammered in surprise. The burly man peered down at her…and laughed.

Marian felt incredibly insulted.

"Why! It's a little lass! Making friends at last, eh, Rob?"

Robin grinned at the man.

"Hello Thomas! Come to fetch me at last?"

Thomas grinned, showing an almost empty mouth devoid of all teeth except two.

"Yeh father's havin' a good time down at da manor!"

Marian snapped her head around quickly. Her round eyes darted fearfully at the man.

"What manor?"

The man laughed and scratched his head.

"Why! That pretty lil' manor dats hostin' da lovely little party! Lord Fitzgerald must be pretty loaded to be that grand! He can be such a gentleman, yet such a prick!"

Marian narrowed her eyes. Her father may not be the fatherly figure she always wanted, but he raised her good and proper. She would not let anyone insult him.

With two movements, Marian leaped onto the man's back and started pulling his lice-ridden hair with more strength than she had ever summoned.

"Watch who you're talking about," she snarled. "Has it ever occurred to you that the lil' lass you're talking to just might be that prick's daughter?"

The man gulped and held up his hands in surrender, his head aching from the force.

Robin laughed, leaning back against the oak tree to witness the funny scene playing out in front of him.

"Has a little girl finally gotten the better of you, Tom? What is she, like, three?"

Marian loosened her grip and stepped back. "I'm five, actually. But then again, I can't expect a simpleton such as yourself to judge a simple thing such as guessing one's age."

Robin blinked a few times.

"Well, don't you have a poisonous tongue?"

Marian tossed her head haughtily.

"My tongue is a lot more use than all your limbs put together."

Feeling her scattered dignity more properly gathered, Marian decided it was time to leave.

"I'll be missed at the party."

With that, she skipped off into the bluster, shift swirling white mists around her legs.

Robin and Tom watched her walk away. How could such a demon-girl possibly be the child of Lord Fitzgerald?

Still, the strange girl had peaked Robin's fascination and he smiled lightly to himself as he turned to retreat back home.

**AN: I just kind of edited some sentences in this (still really short) chapter. It's because I'm too lazy to rewrite it again. Sorry! But that won't stop you from reviewing… will it?**


	3. Papa's Confrontation

Chapter Three:

Marian managed to sneak her way back into the Manor.

It was dark apart from a few lingering guests too drunk to leave after a proper period of time. Marian sniffed indignantly. It was these horrible men that stole away her father's attention.

She slipped into her bedchamber, clambering silently into her nightgown.

It was just as she managed to snuggle into her bedcovers and close her eyes that the door cracked open.

Bernadette hovered in, the candle's light casting piercing gold across the room.

Marian squeezed her eyes shut even tighter.

It seemed an age before Bernadette left again and she heaved a sigh of relief. There had been enough adventures for a day. It was time to rest…

(o) - O - (o)

The next morning when Marian woke, she momentarily forgot what had occurred the night before. Then, the memories flooded back and she dipped her head in shame at the manner in which she had behaved.

She delved for a suitable gown and dressed herself quickly for breakfast.

Bernadette used to dress her but she had decided, being five-years-old, it was more than enough to learn how to clothe herself properly.

She had always been very independent.

Marian was greeted with the surprise of her father munching on some porridge at the breakfast table. She hesitantly edged herself onto a chair, disbelieving the calmness settling across the enormous room.

She picked up her spoon and was about to start eating when her father's deep voice spoke.

"Where were you last night, Marian?"

Marian froze, spoon mid-way to her mouth. She lowered it quietly.

What was an adventure last night was sure to earn her a severe punishment today.

"I-I was at the banquet, Papa. Where else would I be?"

Her father looked at her.

"Really? I don't recall seeing you there."

"I was tired so I went to bed early. You can ask Bernadette!"

"I'm sure you were tired after your excursion."

Marian swallowed. "What… what excursion, Papa?"

"You weren't on an excursion? Now, that's strange. I distinctly remember some girl identical to you, slipping out the front door. She seemed to think her father's eyes were too distracted to notice her exit."

"Papa, it must have been a trick of the light."

Lord Fitzgerald chuckled mirthlessly. He snapped his fingers and summoned a maid over. She held a suspicious bundle in her hands.

"Then, my dear daughter, tell me why my men found _this_ on the moor this morning?"

The bundle was unfolded with a flourish, revealing itself to be Marian's muddy, discarded gown.

She was on the verge of tears.

Her father thumped the table angrily. "How dare you act in such a manner? No daughter of mine will ever behave like so. I have never been more ashamed. What if someone saw you? Your reputation as well as mine would have been completely ruined. You would never be able to marry! And this is only at five-years-old!"

Marian was sobbing heavily into her hands by now.

Her little heart was shattering into aching pieces, her father's harsh words piercing her where it hurt the most.

His speech finished, Lord Fitzgerald huffed once more and rose to sweep himself from the room, leaving behind a thoroughly distressed little girl.

Bernadette hurried forward and took Marian's hands. She clung desperately to the older woman.

"Shh…shh… It's all right now, sweet lady. Let's just calm down a bit…"

Slowly, Marian allowed herself to be taken back to her bedchamber.

Through her tears, she managed to fall asleep again, letting slumber heal the pain she had just suffered.

_Papa doesn't love me at all…_

When Marian next awoke, the moon was shining outside her window pane again.

She rubbed her tear-stained cheek and gently traced the silhouette of the silvery orb through the cool glass of her window. She unlatched the glass and felt the rush of the breeze lift up her curls.

Furtively she glanced around and quickly swung a cloak onto her shoulders.

She had suffered enough heartache.

It was impossible to feel more.

So Marian lifted a dainty foot and jumped outside through her window, seeking comfort in the only familiar friend she knew: the wild.

**AN: So short, I am sorry. But please forgive me and continue reading. I re-edited this chapter also. Better? Worse? Let me know through a review.**


	4. Pretending the Pretendable

Chapter Four:

Marian crept into the forest. The trees were swishing and whispering clever secrets to her knowing ears.

She inhaled, exhaled. The wind lifted up her arms and made her dance around, her eyes slid shut and her hair blown back in a curly mass of chocolate waves.

She was going to enjoy her childhood and the thought made her smile.

A shadow fell over her, covering the light of the moon.

"Hey!" she gasped.

Then, she saw who it was.

"R..r…Robert?"

The boy laughed. "No, but close!"

She turned away, treading softly on the lush green carpet.

"What are you doing here at this time of the night?" Marian looked back at him questioningly.

Robin laughed. "Me? I was just going to ask what, YOU, a lady, was doing here at night!"

Marian frowned. No one would talk to her like that! Ever since she was a little baby, she was treated with respect and her eyes commanded authority.

Robin treated her as his equal. It was a nice feeling. A feeling she had never known about.

And that night, Marian Fitzgerald made a friend.

_Ten Years Later_

"Come on! Don't be so slow!" Marian giggled as she raced through the trees, her arms dangling on the low braches.

Behind her, a young man was grinning, chasing after her with deliberate slowness. His back was strapped with arrows and he held a quiver in his hand.

"Coming! If only you could stay still for a moment!"

Marian looked behind, her hands holding tightly to two wooden swords.

"We haven't got all day, you know! My father thinks I'm spinning in the granary loft! He'll find out if we're gone for too long!"

Robin shook his head. "You're father's so strict!"

He took a quiver and pretended to aim an arrow at Marian's head. It vibrated with a _zing!_ and Marian ducked out of the way, laughing.

They ran to a clearing with sunlight streaming through the green leaves, showering them with twigs every now and then. They played with their wooden swords, whacking each other gently and stabbing each other. Then, Marian seemed to realize what time it was.

"Oh no! I really need to get back!"

Robin stopped grinning and looked around at her, his hair fluttering into his eyes again.

"So soon?" He seemed disappointed, as if he was planning on staying here for the whole day. Marian smiled. "I'll try to come again tomorrow. Same meeting place?"

Robin nodded. "Under the elm tree." Marian twirled a lock of her disheveled hair before smiling, nodding, and spinning away with a rustle of her skirts.

Lord Fitzgerald was unhappy. He had sent out all his soldiers in pursuit of his daughter. Really! This was no way for a woman to behave! He slammed his fist onto the dining table, and it sent a vibration down to the other end.

"BERNADETTE!" he roared.

She came, scuttling with meekness and worry.

"Yes, my lord?"

He was sure his face was most probably bright red, but he was past caring.

"Any news yet?"

Bernadette shook her head. "No, my lord. But they're bound to find her soon."

He closed his eyes and waved her away with a majestic sweep of her hand, and she backed out of the room, relief evident in her face.

"Marian. Marian. Marian. Why, oh why! Why did you have to run away on this important day. Why today? I have something very important to tell you!" He wrapped his arms around his head as he moaned and banged his forehead against the wooden table.

Suddenly, the clanking of armor awoke him from his sulk.

"My lord!"

Lord Fitzgerald looked up. Oh, it was only Gerald.

"My lord! She has returned! The little miss has returned!"

At the mention of his daughter, Lord Fitzgerald started fuming again. "Bring her in! NOW!" Gerald nodded and walked clumsily towards the exit, his armor ringing with every step.

Slowly, and cautiously, Marian stepped into the dining hall. Her father was facedown on the table, his arms folded under his head, serving as a makeshift pillow.

She walked lightly over.

"Papa? Papa?"

He didn't respond. As she turned to leave, his head snapped up, two bright spots of pink illuminating his cheeks. He jumped onto his feet, smoke billowing from his ears.

Reaching his daughter, he gave her a resounding slap. Marian cowered against the wall.

"Papa! Please don't get angry. The trees just looked so inviting and I just HAD to go! Papa please! I didn't mean to lose track of the time, it's just that I lost track of the time and I really DID mean to come back as soon as I had a breath of fresh air!" she gabbled desperately, lies spinning on thick webs, sending itself towards her father.

He bristled up, his nose scrunching up with disgust.

"You were with that Locksley boy weren't you?"

Marian couldn't look her father in the eyes.

"N…no! Of course not!"

Her father snarled and slapped her again.

"You little filthy liar. You whore! You dirty little slut! That Locksley boy is useless. His family does not hold THAT much power. You must marry into a rich and political family! You must win back my dignity! You must fulfil your duty as a daughter!"

Marian squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. Robin would never know how much she suffered for him. Sometimes she even wondered it their outings were worth the pain and lectures.

No! She couldn't think like that. She had to be strong. She had to go on. She had to win this fight.

She looked up, and saw her father walking out of the hall. Nearly fainting with relief, she stood up shakily, and slowly picked her way to her room.

On the way she passed Bernadette, pretending everything was alright, pretending that Marian's cheek wasn't hot, swollen, and bruising fast.

Pretending that she was free.

**AN: I UPDATED! YAY! I'm so proud of myself. So please review! Danke!**


	5. Gone, Gone, Gone

Chapter Five:

Marian lay sprawled across her bed, tears creating a damp patch on her blanket. Bernadette had been in, but in a fit of rage and pain, Marian had spun out of control and threw a vase at her head.

She was very sorry for that now.

She liked Bernadette. It really wasn't her fault that she just came in at the wrong time. She would go apologize as soon as they had unlocked her door.

Outside her bedroom, she could hear her father's footsteps echoing back and forth across her door. Ha! He was guarding her, was he?

Marian raised her head to look at the moon outside her freshly barred window. Her father had immediately hired locksmiths to place iron strips on her window and to seal it shut with hot wax. It was quickly done and now Marian's only chance of escape was gone.

She sniffed bitterly and turned to lie on her back, her eyes roaming over the ceiling of her room.

Robin would be disappointed.

She hated disappointing people, but this really couldn't be helped.

If her father was this stubborn, then she could imagine rotting in her room.

Her father had stopped pacing her room and had walked away. She could hear him treading angrily into the corridor and into HIS room.

How would he like to be locked up?

SPLAT!

What was that?

Marian sat up, her blankets whispering around her. The wind blew a cold draft through her hair and Marian looked at the window again.

It was the same. There were nine thick strips of metal and was sealed firmly with hot wax. The only difference was, there was a face outside her window.

The face was grinning.

And the face belonged to a certain person called Robin Hood.

(o) - O - (o)

Lord Fitzgerald was fuming angrily. He had desisted from pacing back and forth from his daughter's room. His feet were aching and he was sure there was no way she could get out. In his fit of rage, he had forgotten to tell his daughter about the extremely important news.

He thumped his knee. Sharp shooting pains started dancing in his bones and he growled.

He would tell Marian later…when she was less…violent.

He had sent her maid, Bernadette, in a few moments earlier.

Bernadette came out howling with a sharp cut on her cheek and screaming about a broken vase. Her face was being carefully swabbed by some physicians and they had managed to reduce some of the swelling.

Oh, these were the times he wished Marian's mother could still be here.

She'd know what to do.

His features softened as he gazed up at the large painting hung on his wall. It held a beautiful woman, smiling…yet not smiling. She looked carefree and strict and helpless at the same time. It was a look no man could resist.

How hard he had fought to win her hand. It was the greatest triumph of his life. And when Marian was born, he thought he could never be happier. He didn't care if his child was a son or a daughter. He was content with his family.

Giving birth to Marian was a difficult task for his wife. She had a fever completing it. But the physician assured him that it was all natural and it would go down in a few days with plenty of fluids and rest.

But then her fever never broke.

Her forehead grew so hot you could burn an egg on it. She lay, red and sweaty in her chambers all day, groaning and gasping for breath.

Slowly, she wasted away. All food you gave her, she managed to return from her stomach.

He was beside himself with worry. He called for all the best physicians in the land, wanting to heal her. And then, she left him.

He wailed and sobbed, but there was nothing he could do. He sat numbly beside her for a few days, not wanting to accept the realistic truth beckoning towards him. He held her hand so tightly it seemed as if her bones were snapping.

They had to drag him away and with daily reminders, he remembered he had a daughter.

Marian wasn't even half a year old.

From then on, he started hating his daughter.

She reminded him so much of his beautiful wife. He blamed Marian for Rosemary's death.

What else could he do?

He was beside himself with sorrow and nearly fell insane. His daughter grew up to be just like Rosemary. She loved the wild. So he tried to make her stay inside; wanted her to go a different road to her mother just so he wouldn't have to suffer the horrible life of watching his wife's image haunt him everyday again.

He wasn't always like this.

Truly, and deeply, he loved his daughter.

He just forgot to show love.

For as long as Marian could remember, her father was a cruel, strict man who did nothing. Lord Fitzgerald had started to crack. He became immersed in his work and power. Using power as an excuse, he attempted to forget the happy life he had once led.

He forgot love.

He forgot kindness.

He forgot many things.

When he was young, he was carefree, adventurous, a bit of a dare-devil.

Rosemary came into his life, and to prove himself, he studied books, history, literature.

Slowly, as the years passed, he sunk into something he wasn't. He became the latter of his life and the former disintegrated into nothing but memories.

How he hated himself.

With a sob, he covered his face with his hands, tears staining his palms.

Looking up, he knew what he would do…

(o) - O - (o)

Marian was incredibly surprised to see Robin grinning somehow impishly at her.

"What are YOU doing here?"

Robin grinned even wider and started busying himself with cutting off the wax with a knife.

To Marian's amazement, it was working. He started rapidly chipping off large, smooth, and creaming pieces of wax. Blowing the scrapings off the windowsill, he tried to open it. It did so with a soft groan.

Marian smiled.

Trust Robin.

He whispered, "Now we can pass some things to each other."

Marian laughed softly in spite of herself.

"Hey! It's an improvement!" said Robin, frowning slightly.

Marian retorted, "I'll thank you if you can get these bloody bars off my window."

Robin tutted. "Such language. And from a Lord's daughter too!"

Marian pretended to swat Robin's head but he ignored it. His face suddenly became serious.

"Marian, I need to tell you something."

She looked curiously at him. "What?"

"I'm going to Derbyshire."

Marian smiled. "Oh, that! Great! Bring me back lots of presents and tell me all about it!"

Robin shook his head and sighed. "No, Marian. I'm going there permanently…with my Uncle. Father thought it would be a good experience for me."

Marian stood, shocked. She wasn't going to be seeing her best friend's presence. The information revolved around her head at full speed, making her feel dizzy.

"What?"

"You heard me the first time. I'm going to Derbyshire with my Uncle, permanently."

Marian started to cry. She couldn't help it. She felt as if it was very unfair that all this was being dumped on her.

Robin smiled and handed her a handkerchief.

"Don't cry, Marian. I'll write. I promise!"

Marian sobbed, "But…it…won't…be…the…same.."

Robin let out a laugh. "No it won't," he added ruefully. "Look, Marian, I hate to break up the party, but I sneaked out here just to tell you. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and my family will probably be angry with me for sneaking out. Don't cry, now. I've got to go. This is goodbye."

Marian started crying even harder. She stretched her thin arms through the bars and clung desperately to Robin's sleeve.

He sighed and patted her hand before gently shaking her off. He turned his back to leave…

"Wait!" Marian cried.

She turned and fumbled frantically in a chest before she took out something and ran to the window. Robin looked at her. She held out a ring. It was made clumsily, as if the person who had made it, was not very talented. The ring was a silver band with round, uneven silver spheres attached.

Marian handed it to Robin.

"What is this?" asked Robin.

Marian smiled through her tears. "I made this ring myself.."

"I can tell", interrupted Robin.

Marian laughed. "Anyway. Keep it with you and return it to me when you get back. I don't care how long it takes, you've GOT to come back and visit me. Return the ring then."

Robin smiled. "I don't have anything to give you…you can keep that handkerchief, then!" He pointed at the sodden cloth clutched in Marian's hand. They both laughed. Then, there was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, I'd better go back. Goodbye then."

Marian's eyes were sparkling again.

"Goodbye, Robin. Have a safe journey. Don't forget me."

Robin tried to smile but felt heavy. "I won't. Goodbye."

Then, he turned and without a look, walked quickly away.

As for Marian, she held the handkerchief to her wet eyes, and sobbed out the name of the boy who was walking away so fast.

**AN: I think this was one of my better (and longer) chapters. Please review to tell me what you think of it!**


	6. New Beginnings, New Starts

Chapter Six:

Lord Fitzgerald sat in his room quietly, a glass full of untouched whiskey on his desk, and a sword balanced on his lap.

He was gazing intently at a portrait on the wall and murmuring softly.

Suddenly, he whipped his head around and cried, "Marian!"

Bernadette hurried over and asked the Lord, "Can we let the lady out now?"

Lord Fitzgerald nodded wearily, tears collapsing out under his eyelids.

Bernadette smiled and hurried over. She had such a kind heart, feeling no resentment to the broken vase that was the cause of a large white bandage wrapped tightly around her head.

She ordered the guards to free Marian and watched as the door slowly creaked open, light falling on a sobbing figure sprawled across her bed.

"Marian! Your father summons you to his study!"

Marian looked up, her hair falling in her eyes and redness rimming her eyes.

"Oh, please go, Bernadette. I do not wish to see anyone now. I just want to be left alone in peace."

Bernadette frowned. How could this be? Marian was acting rather strange. She needn't cry so hard over her father's punishment? Oh, it was all so confusing.

"My Lady Marian, you must go. Your father awaits you in his study."

Marian swallowed and slid off her bed, shuffling towards the door, her hair hanging loosely around her face.

Her father was inspecting a sword when she came in.

_It was strange_, thought Marian. _For once, I thought I thought I saw a boyish glimmer in his eyes. It is almost as if he were young again_.

It was true.

Lord Fitzgerald had seen his past in that sword.

He saw a boy running across the plains, chasing after a girl who was screaming, "Edward! You'll never catch me!"

He had seen his wife, Rosemary, had seen Marian's birth, had seen a Lord Fitzgerald, dueling with a sword and bringing the prize to Rosemary's fingers.

But when he looked again, there was nothing there but his own reflection, and a rusty sword not polished for a long time.

Marian sniffed.

Her father turned around, his face weary and worn. He looked positively heartbroken.

But that wasn't possible.

There was no heartbreak with a man who had no heart.

"Marian, I beg your forgiveness."

Her father's first words astounded the girl.

Lord Fitzgerald plunged on, he couldn't stop. "Marian, I think I have something to tell you. I think it was time you learnt my story. I think I owe you that much."

Marian listened on, not daring to believe that this was all real.

"I was always outshone by older brother, William. He was the best at fighting, looks, talent, intelligence, charms. I thought I hated him. But then he died. On the road the Derbyshire, he was attacked by thieves, robbing him of every treasure he carried with him, and giving his a stab in the heart for good measure."

Thinking of Derbyshire made her heart heat faster and her teeth to sink into her lower lip.

Lord Fitzgerald continued. "I had not realized until that very moment that I respected and loved my older brother very much. I cried at his funeral, something I had not allowed myself to do until then. It was brutal. Then your grandparents told me that as my brother was gone, it would be my duty to step up into the place of the heir, and replace William. I was never right for the job. I still don't think I am. I was much too daring, much too dangerous, and much too adventurous for this kind of job that would tie me down."

Marian smiled a little, trying to picture her father as he had just described. She really couldn't.

"Then I met your mother. She was so sweet, kind, and gentle, but at the same time, mischievous, crafty, and omniscient. I loved her more than I loved myself. She was like a ray of sunshine in my life. There are no words in the English language to describe what I felt and feel for her. She was perfect for me in every single way. I thought it my stroke of luck that I managed to win her hand. There were many others who were much better than me in many ways. Then your mother had you and I thought life could not get any better. It may not seem so Marian, but I really do love you. But your birth killed your mother. She was always immune to sicknesses, so I was shocked her death. That was the second time I cried in my life."

Marian was listening, her heart heavy with her father's words.

He was pouring his heart out to her, tears were slipping down his cheeks at the effort of relating his tale, and grasping the sword handle so tightly that his knuckles were cracking.

"I immersed myself in something I thought I could never turn into. I became cruel, violent, a horrible father. I did not give you the love I thought I had so much of. That has simply wandered away. I have become hidden inside folds of this person I never knew. So I apologize, Marian. I have given you a sad fifteen years of your life. It was an enormous mistake. I have only just realized. Will you ever forgive me?"

Marian was crying too, silently, father and daughter mirrored each other, their tears both flowing, their eyes glistening, their arms by their side.

But then, the father hugged his daughter. He was crying out loud. His daughter's sobs were muffled by her father's shoulder.

They recognized each other for what they were.

The sword had crashed onto the stone tiles, its reflection showing more than anything it had ever known.

After their reunion, father and daughter sat comfortably at the dinner table, laughing at moments they never knew they had.

It was glorious.

Marian thought herself incredibly lucky. Then, Lord Fitzgerald said. "Oh, Marian, I almost forgot. The Duke and his son are visiting our home next week. Please be nice."

Marian smiled, naïve to the real reason. "Oh, of course. But that would depend on your meaning of 'nice'."

She started laughing again, her father forcing along.

The days passed effortlessly, even with Robin gone.

Her newfound relationship with her father had sufficiently mended the broken patch in her heart.

Oh she never forgot Robin, she could _never_ forget Robin, but she was not moping around her room all day as she thought she would.

Then, one day, her dress was nicer than usual and Bernadette took a longer time in dressing Marian's hair.

The Duke and his son were coming.

Marian did not think much of it.

Their carriage was beautiful; the wheels glistened as though it had never seen mud or dirt.

The Duke was a fine man, about Father's age, his clothes fine and spotless. Then, Marian saw the Duke's son. He was a handsome young man, perhaps a year or two older than Marian. His fine curly, blonde hair looked tidy and when he smiled (as he was doing so right now), his teeth dazzled the onlookers.

Marian had never seen a better looking boy…well, apart from Robin of course.

The Duke and Marian's father shook hands, their smiles wide and fake.

The Duke swept a hand towards his son's direction. "This is my son, Francis."

Marian felt herself being pushed forward, gently by her father.

"And this is my daughter, Marian."

Francis bowed low, "How do you do? I am in rapture to be in the presence of so fine a lady."

Marian couldn't help but blush, sinking low into a curtsey and offering Francis her hand as they walked into the manor.

Francis was certainly a very charming young man, and he helped Marian in every way a gentleman should.

Marian felt her guard slipping and decided not to bother hoisting it up for the moment.

As the Lord Fitzgerald and the Duke retired to talk business, Marian found herself in the company of an attractive Francis who was eager to be shown around. They wandered the gardens and even passed the places Marian and Robin used to play.

At long last, they were back where they started and all four sat down to a fine dinner. It was very dark when the Duke and Francis decided to depart home.

Marian had a good time and waved them goodbye, begging for them to return soon. She did not know why she did it.

As the carriage rode off into the stars, she turned towards her father with a pleasant expression. "I take it you and Francis got along quite well?" he murmured, glancing away.

Marian smiled and nodded demurely. She was sure Francis was a good friend. The dark night peeled into her arms and whispered their greetings, the hollow footsteps of Marian's father descending into the house.

With one last look before her, Marian turned and skipped inside too.

**AN: I quite liked this chapter. It hangs quite well. Keep on reading if you want to find out what happens!**


	7. Burning Embers

Chapter Seven:

The Duke and Francis soon became a regular visitor to Lord Fitzgerald's manor.

Marian found herself drowning her sorrow of Robin's departure into her newly revealed friendship with Francis.

Both young men were very much alike.

Marian sometimes felt rather guilty of her friendship with Francis.

Was it considered a disloyalty to Robin?

No, no, she didn't think so.

Francis was a nice young man and Marian enjoyed laughing (they rarely fought) and exchanging witty verses in each others' company. Their fathers seemed very happy (and even relieved?) at their friendship. In fact, they encouraged it as much as they could.

Looking back, Marian found that she often discovered a stab of pain whenever she viewed her father's reaction to her friendship with both men.

Oh, Robin.

He had not written a single letter to her.

Was something wrong?

_In Derbyshire:_

"Robin, we must present you tomorrow to the town sheriff. Try to do something nice with your clothes, won't you?"

Robin sighed.

All that his uncle ever wanted was power. Obviously, he just wanted to introduce Robin so that he could have something else to brag about.

"Yes, Uncle."

Oh, how he missed Marian.

He missed their talks, their fights, their times together.

He was sure that they would be the happiest time of his life.

With a jolt, Robin realized that he had not yet written to Marian.

"How selfish of me," he thought aloud. Sitting down, he started composing a letter.

_Dear Marian,_

_Life here is very tedious and I miss you terribly. How are you? I hope you're not missing me too much? Yes, I know you're laughing at that. Don't pretend that you're not. But don't spend too much time moping around. I'll be back before you know it. Yes, I do mean that. Take good care of my handkerchief. I look after your ring carefully. It looks different with a polish every now and then. I hope you're having a jolly time. Make some new friends. That shouldn't be hard. You're really quite social (when you don't bash people up). If you see my family, please send my greetings. I know that is highly unlikely, but try anyway. My uncle wishes to present me to the town sheriff tomorrow. I do not want to go. I'd much rather stay with you and laugh away the time, to dance under the trees and beat you at a duel. Don't smirk at my fanciful thoughts. I'm allowed to have them too. I am very sorry that I have forgotten to write. I was extremely busy. Please don't hold that against me. I did not mean to, and I promise that another letter will come back to you, soon. Send my regards to your father (although he probably doesn't want them for me). Forgive the fact that this is a very short letter. They will be longer in the future. Don't forget me._

_Much Love,_

_Robin._

He smiled as he slid it into a creamy envelope and sealed the opening with red wax. It cooled and molded into the Locksley family crest.

He didn't like the pattern very much, but then again, who was he to complain?

Thinking about Marian made him happy and sad.

What was she doing right now?

(o) - O - (o)

"Where are you?" she called, laughing through the thick, black blindfold.

"Over here!" he called, running away from where he had been, minutes ago.

"Oh, Francis! You've gone again. I don't think I'll ever find you!"

Francis laughed, his golden hair glinting in the sunlight.

Nearby, a bird called, its sweet music humming in the air.

"That's the whole point!" he replied.

"But then the game would be completely pointless!" protested she.

He smiled and sat down. "Come on, Marian. Try harder."

Marian pulled off her blindfold slowly, her smile fading a little. Robin had always said those words to her.

Francis frowned. "What's wrong?"

Marian looked up.

"Oh, nothing. Just remembering…something…"

Francis sighed. "All right then. Would you like a drink?"

Marian shook her head, her fingers trailing the grass. He jumped into the cool shade of the house while she stayed outside, thinking about Robin and what he was doing.

She still hadn't received a letter. Something had to be wrong. But what if Robin really had forgotten about her? Was he happy to leave her and dance into Derbyshire with girls on each arm?

He was a handsome boy. He would have no problem being married.

But had he really forgotten about her?

(o) - O - (o)

"My Lord! My Lord!"

Bernadette swept across the dewy plains, waving an envelope in her hand.

"It is a letter from the Locksley boy! Lady Marian will be pleased."

The Lord Fitzgerald swung around, his eyes shining with the talk of his daughter and happiness.

Yes, Marian had been pining for some while. She had lost weight, hardly smiled, and even started crying when she thought no one was near her.

But he could still hear his daughter's sobs at night. Their rooms were not so far away.

He caught the letter, his fingers tingling with excitement. Marian would be ecstatic when she received the letter. He turned to race away for Marian. But something blocked him.

It was the long shadow of the Duke.

"Remember, Edward. You promised me."

The Duke's face was snarling, condescending, and twisted.

_Yes_, thought Lord Fitzgerald. _But that was when I was a power hungry maniac who didn't think tuppence about my daughter_.

As if reading his mind, the Duke replied quickly, "You signed the contract. I have it in writing."

The Lord Fitzgerald stared miserably at this man, his blood pounding in his ears.

The Duke held out his hand and his finger twitched.

Lord Fitzgerald hesitated.

The Duke snapped his fingers impatiently. Very slowly and reluctantly, the Lord Fitzgerald handed over the letter. The Duke snatched it out of his hand and ripped open the seal. The Lord Fitzgerald watched with a lump in his throat and tears swelling in his eyes.

His poor, poor Marian.

What had he done?

After the Duke had finished examining the contents, he handed it back to the Lord Fitzgerald arrogantly, as if it were a piece of filth his royal fingers could not bear to even brush against.

"Destroy it." he said simply.

The Lord Fitzgerald swallowed and said. "I will, later."

The Duke stamped his foot hard against the base. It gave a muffled ring through the stone floor.

"Destroy it, now. Marian must have no connection with the Locksley boy. She must forget about him. Destroy it."

The Lord Fitzgerald thought about his daughter.

He was ruining her. He couldn't bear to watch this. But he also couldn't bear to see his title, land, and money swiped away from him and leave him and Marian penniless on the streets. He couldn't do that to his daughter. He knew the Duke had an immense amount of power. He could do anything he liked to him.

Their family was a speck of dust on his waistcoat. It would be easy to brush off.

The Lord Fitzgerald inhaled deeply.

_Forgive me, Marian_, he thought_. I promise to make it up to you later_.

With that, he intercepted the letter, seal, and envelope.

The fire was burning brightly, it destructed so much already.

He stood by the fire, gazing hypnotically over the glittering embers. They fizzled, and cracked and jumped.

With an enormous effort, all the time thinking about his daughter, the Lord Fitzgerald sent the letter fluttering onto the fire.

It lay for a moment, and then shriveled into a charred mixture of dust and heat, the wax melting like the tears sliding down Lord Fitzgerald's face.

**AN: I liked this chapter, even though it was a tad short. Review and I'll update soon!**


	8. Endless Pining

Chapter Eight:

Marian was tired.

Well, tired in _all_ manners of speaking.

For one thing, she was tired of her father's sad face gliding around. Then, she was tired of all the excitement for the village feast coming up.

All the laughter and cheer didn't match her mood.

But most of all, she was tired about thinking of _him_.

He still hadn't written.

It had been weeks!

She had wept piteously, then been found by Francis. Still not knowing if this part of her life was to be entrusted by Francis, she had made up some lie about hay fever and the autumn wind.

He didn't believe her, merely stating, "He must have forgotten you."

Marian was rather shocked. He went (a bit hurriedly, in her opinion) to explain that her father had told his father, who had told him, about the fact that Robin of Locksley wasn't writing to Marian.

She found it strange that it should be made such a huge deal that even Francis knew, but she supposed they only cared about her.

Still, it was a bit suspicious.

Robin had not been her friend for ten years for nothing.

So, a tired and weary Marian decided to go for a stroll through the village.

All around, there were colorful banners and creations dangling and blowing in the wind. The swirls made her dizzy and want to be sick.

When Robin was here, she would have enjoyed the decorations immensely, perhaps discussing (and arguing) with him, which one was the best.

But that was all over now.

He was somewhere in Derbyshire, probably having the time of his life, forgetting all about her, and being placed at some high honor at banquets and dinners with important Lords and Barons and Marquis.

She treasured his leaving present.

The handkerchief held the brief, lingering scent of her tears and their last goodbye.

She dutifully kept it spotless, carefully taking it out to weep over her lost friend now and then, and perhaps holding it to her cheek just to remember again.

Of course, he probably threw her ring away at the first chance he could get.

Who was she kidding?

Who could like such a worthless and hideous object?

Clearly, her friendship meant nothing to him. With his charms, he could easily make another dozen of 'friends'.

They would be just as loyal as she, pining away for him when he traveled to another destination and made a new batch of buddies.

But, oh, Robin.

Would it really be that hard to send one letter?

(o) - O - (o)

He scribbled fast and hastily.

If his uncle caught him, he would be done for.

_Your Friend, Robin_.

There! He smiled broadly, happy that somewhere Marian would be reading his letters before and soon receiving his latest. He had faithfully written to her at least twice a week, never forgetting her brown hair, or winning smile. But however hard he waited, she never replied.

She must have forgotten him.

He had warned her (rather teasingly at first) not to forget him. It was a joke. But then, his remarks grew serious.

Why wasn't she replying? Was something wrong? The thought made him shudder.

He hoped with all his might, that she was brave and courageous.

Every day was torture.

How often he would look outside and wonder wistfully about his meanders with Marian. Their sword fights under the dancing leaves.

Then, he would remember how they first met.

She, a girl in muddy splendor, and he, a boy with a ruddy smile and holey clothes. They were a perfect match.

She was so full of spirit and passion.

How he laughed when he remembered how she had jumped up like a monkey in her father's honor.

Oh, Marian.

Her name haunted him everyday, her solemn eyes looking so innocent and feigning indifference.

He wanted to get out of this hole and rush straight into her courtyard, peering over her window and pulling faces to make her laugh.

How he missed her laughter.

It had been weeks.

Not one reply.

Slowly, Robin's letter dwindled into shorter and shorter paragraphs. He was giving up hope. Every week he would wait for her letters in vain.

At first, he just thought she was busy, but then he became slightly alarmed, worried that something terrible had happened.

Now, as the weeks passed, he grew very curious and a bit sad.

He was sad that his best friend had managed to forget him. He was heartbroken that she did not deem him worthy to grant him a single word for a reply. He was breaking down and losing control.

He was becoming something he hadn't realized he could.

Silently, Robin wept into the night, his letter slightly dripping on the page.

He had finally summoned the courage to recount of how he was feeling. He poured out his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes, his fears.

He had told her of how scared he was of losing her friendship, how it was the only thing that kept him going with his uncle everyday, being presented like a prize poodle at a dog show.

He had written of how much he wanted to see her, to laugh with her, to fight and argue with her.

He smothered the page with tears and kisses, pretending that Marian was standing there, tipping her head in the moonlight and grinning like an imp.

He had sent Marian his heart, his core, his aspirations.

And they were never returned.

(o) - O - (o)

"What are you thinking?" whispered Francis, throwing himself down next to her.

They lay on their stomachs in the long, ticklish grass of the meadows in the bright sunshine of the day.

"Nothing. Nothing." she murmured, her head grazing the grass, her hair messy after rolling around and laughing, and remembering how she tumbled around with Robin before he had gone.

No, no, no.

She reminded herself to forget him.

A year had passed, not a single letter. She willed herself to accept the fact that he had forgotten her. She was going to burn the handkerchief, but found that the task was too hard. She decided that she would keep it.

It was not because she wanted to be reminded of Robin, she kept it because she used it to remember the good days she once had.

Francis was looking at her. She could feel his gaze. Her friendship had become more intense, day after day.

Then, one windy afternoon, he had ridden the fifty miles from his estate to hers, thrown himself on the dining hall floor, and professed his love to Marian.

It was sweetly romantic and Marian accepted his love, her heart telling her to never give up and go after Robin. But her head remained clear. She followed her head and decided her way.

Francis was pleasant enough. In fact, if she imagined hard enough, she could see Francis smiling, and pretend that she was in love with him as well.

Their friendship had not altered one bit after his confession. In fact, Marian could not see a single difference to what it was before. They still rode together, read together, ran around together.

But she never shared Robin with him. She never shared her thoughts with him. She never poured out her heart to him as she used to easily do with Robin.

When she tried to have some sword fights or duels with him, he would decline graciously, telling her it was childish and a woman should not behave so.

Slowly, she learnt not to ask that of Francis.

The wind was hot and blew a scathing breeze over her back. She closed her eyes and wished that Robin would come back to her, wished that all the happy times would return.

Perhaps she sighed. She didn't know she did, until Francis asked her of it. She just shook her head ruefully, smiling a little, her eyes watering a bit.

Then, she heard an intake of breath. Rather startled, she glanced quickly to her right. Francis had stood up. Shakily, she followed suit, certain that something was going to happen.

The wind ruffled her curls.

She blinked three times, looking questioningly at Francis.

He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Marian. We have been courting for quite a while now. I am very fond of you, and hope that you are of me, also. I swear that you are incredibly precious to me, and I am madly in love. So, after careful consideration, I ask you one question."

At that point, he sank onto one knee and gazed up with imploring eyes. "Marian Fitzgerald, will you marry me?"

A silence echoed among the grass. Somewhere to the east, a bird chirped. Marian blinked, taking a few moments for the words to sink in.

"Oh." she replied, a little dazed. "I must go and think about it."

Then, she turned and half ran, half stumbled towards her manor. The cool shade of her room contrasted with heat outside.

She frantically rummaged through her chest until she found the weatherworn handkerchief Robin had given her a year ago when he had held that secret conversation with her along the window.

She sniffed in it, tears leaking into the cloth as she remembered.

She hadn't forgotten a single detail.

Francis' proposal alarmed her.

She wasn't sure she was ready.

She knew that Francis would be expecting an answer soon. The room span around her as she toppled onto her bed, thoughts rushing through her mind with such velocity that she nearly screamed. She didn't want to make this awful decision.

Again, her heart and head was going at it. Their arguments were both accurate and correct.

Oh, if only Robin was here to make the decision for her.

She didn't know when she had fallen asleep. When Marian awoke, it was nighttime, and she had a raging headache.

She had decided.

Her head had won and was standing triumphantly over her heart, a smug look upon its face. Marian licked her dry lips, her throat coarse and begging for water.

Sniffing slightly, she wandered over to her writing desk, the effort causing her eyes to well up and slide.

How awful she felt.

No, she mustn't waste another moment.

She would forget.

She had to continue.

Her hands shaking, she shook out a clean piece of parchment, and scrawled a loopy letter. Then, she broke down and wept with her arms enveloping her hair, her tears blinding her dreams of so long ago.

Then, some fifty miles, a boy called Francis took out a letter with,

"_Yes._

_Marian._"

**AN: Well, I definitely liked that chapter. Tell me your opinion, won't you? I wrote it to emphasis the pining both Marian and Robin felt for each other.**


	9. Newly Discovered Freedom

Chapter Nine:

The sunrise was beautiful.

The sparkling, golden rays drifted slowly across the sea, the combined result was a dazzling hue of green and blue and gold.

The sun was merciful, it crept into Marian's room, encompassing its rays around her weeping form and hugging her hair.

Marian didn't look up.

She was frozen on the face of time, her sorrow far more violent than she had ever thought it would be. There was a knock at the door.

"My Lady?" enquired Bernadette.

Oh, poor sweet Bernadette. She meant the best. She could mean everything, yet she would not mean Robin.

Somehow, that made sense to Marian, even though it probably didn't to the rest of the world.

With a rustle of her skirts, she sat up slowly, a headache pumping in her temples.

"Robin." she mused.

What was he doing today? How often she wondered that question. Almost every time she was conscious.

It was no use.

She had sent her reply to Francis, Francis who would be her husband, Francis who would grow old with her, Francis who would give her the world if she asked for it, Francis for whom she cared for only as a friend.

The sunshine was leaving her, leaving her heart as cold and hopeless as it had been before.

She couldn't rely on the sunshine.

Marian had barely slept, choosing to weep over someone who could not hear her. Her friend, Robin.

Was he so heartless as to ignore her completely?

He had promised. She had believed him.

Robin had looked so earnest as he stood under her window, his eyes gazing rapturously at her face. What a sight she must have looked! He must have been laughing secretly in the inside.

"Enough of that!"

Marian jumped up.

Her father had entered the room, his face drawn and haggard.

She stood up, walked a few feet, then toppled to the ground, a war raging in her mind.

"Oh, Marian. What have I done?" sighed her father, sinking down beside her unconscious form and burying his hands deep within pockets.

A tear splashed onto her forehead and he hastily moved to wipe it away. He could not contaminate his daughter.

He must make her the happiest she had ever been before her marriage.

He was upset. He knew that deep within him, he was upset.

He wished his daughter had stood up more, had refused Francis.

He knew Francis was a nice young man, but he also knew that she was in love with the Locksley boy.

She would not care to admit it, perhaps she didn't even know it, but indeed she was. In fact, he was pretty sure that the Locksley boy was in love with her as well, judging from his letters.

He always read them carefully, wanting to remember every detail as to recall to his daughter when the time was right. Lord Fitzgerald had motioned for the servants to carry Marian to her bed.

Her eyes were pink and swollen with relentless crying. She had been sad for quite some time now.

Lord Fitzgerald wanted some things to change.

Gazing at his daughter's form, he knew what he had to do.

(o) - O - (o)

Robin sat under the tree.

A year had passed by slowly.

The breeze ruffled his hair. To his right, he heard some giggling. It was the Lennox sisters. There was Sarah, Anne and Jane. They were beautiful ladies. Ever since he had been risen to a high order in the court, in seemed that every lord and baron was pushing their daughters towards him.

He didn't have a moment of peace to himself.

All he wanted to do was think about Marian. He just wanted to think about their happy times together.

If he could escape, he would.

He still wrote to Marian once a day, no longer caring if she replied or not. It had become habit of him. He only wrote to share his thoughts with her, knowing that she would probably be throwing it into the fire as soon as she received it.

"Robin!"

He looked towards the voice.

There was his uncle, striding furiously towards him.

The Lennox sisters were nowhere to be seen.

"What are you doing here? You have an important speech to make tomorrow and you should perfect it! You MUST make me look good!"

Robin closed his eyes. He was tired. He didn't want to do anything. Roughly, his uncle seized his neck and dragged him up.

"Get inside and practice" he snarled menacingly.

Robin looked back with drooping eyes. He didn't know how long it had been since he had received a decent night of sleep.

His uncle released him and Robin stumbled a little. He knew he looked pathetic. He had come a long way from the Robin that was so merry before he had come.

How he hated his uncle.

Shuffling slightly, Robin trudged back towards the house, trying to remember the speech he had written.

His mind grew blank and resolutely stayed there. His room was dark. There was hardly any sunlight and the windows were small.

He hated it.

In fact, he hated everything here.

Most of all, he hated how Marian was not close to him.

Marian.

"Master Robin, there is a gentleman here for you!" Robin emerged from his room, wondering who it could be. Downstairs, he heard drifts of conversation as his uncle bowed and scraped before the newcomer.

Hmm, this must be an important figure for his uncle to act in such an undignified manner.

"Oh, my Lord, the boy is perfectly fine. You want to meet him? May I ask why you wish to do so? Yes, yes, of course. Of course. Oh no! I dare not question your actions, my Lord! I wouldn't dream of it! Certainly! Please, wait. Beth! Beth! Stupid girl. Oh, you mustn't mind her, she's always so clumsy. Clean up the Lord and fetch the young master."

Robin hurriedly backed away into his room and pretended to study. Beth knocked, "Come in" he said politely. He made sure that he was always polite to servants, unlike his uncle, servants were people too.

Beth entered, breathless and red with tears glinting in her eyes.

"The Master wants to see you downstairs. I called you before, young Master. Did you not hear Beth?"

Robin smiled awkwardly, "Oh, Beth, I'm sorry, I didn't. Rest for a while, you must be tired. I'll go down straightaway."

Then, to Robin's horror, Beth flushed a bright pink and giggled.

"Oh, young Master, you are always thinking of me! Thank you!" Then, with a titter, she went downstairs, her mood lifted considerably, even singing softly to herself.

Robin sighed. He couldn't bear it, why did all the ladies have to be this way?

Marian was never like this.

No, no, he couldn't think about Marian right now, he had an important guest waiting downstairs for him.

Rubbing his face and plastering a smile, he edged slowly down the stairs.

"Oh, my Lord! Yes, he'll be here in a minute! How is your daughter? She is well?"

Robin rolled his eyes, perhaps another lord wanting to create a match between him and his daughter!

Deciding he could face the worst, he inhaled and swung the door open, a smile attached to his face. His uncle looked around, his shrewd smile and crafty eyes broadening.

The visitor did not turn around, merely taking another sip of his tea. From the back, Robin noticed that this gentleman was quite old, his hair was a bit limp and his clothes (although fine) were dusty from his travels.

"Good day, sir" said Robin, bowing low.

His eyes were on the stranger the whole time. Something about this gentleman was incredibly familiar. He just couldn't put his finger on it…

(o) - O - (o)

"Where is Papa?" asked Marian hurriedly as she woke up.

Bernadette smiled.

"There's nothing to worry about, dear, he's gone on a trip, he said he'll be back in a month or so."

A trip?

Marian was rather surprised. She didn't remember much except that her father had entered her room, cried out, "Enough of that", and then Marian had fell unconscious.

Was he going to be all right?

Biting her lip a little, she got out of bed.

Bernadette rushed over, exclaiming, "Oh! My Lady! You mustn't! You must rest! The doctor said so!"

Marian sighed. "The fresh air will make my head clearer, I promise I shall be back soon. I won't get into any trouble."

Bernadette relented and bade her to put on a cloak.

Marian raced outside and inhaled, the sweet smell of grass reaching her mind. Then, a horse neighed, breaking the silence.

She opened her eyes, startled.

"Francis?"

The man took off his cap and grinned. "Happy to see me?"

Marian smiled weakly.

"I received your reply. I am glad you came to your senses. Of course, we will wait until you are eighteen. We must respect your father's wishes."

In her heart, Marian praised her father and relief flooded through her body, numbing it. She had a full two years to be herself and enjoy life. Evidently, the smile on her face was enough to make Francis a bit worried.

"Are you all right?"

Marian nodded, twirling around and spreading her arms wide. The laughter bubbled from her stomach and she laughed like she had never laughed before.

Francis joined in, not realizing that she was rejoicing in her freedom from him before having to be captured by him.

_A Month Later_

Marian sat, humming, as she embroidered a stitching she was making.

Ever since she found out she wasn't to be married right away, her mood had lightened. Even Bernadette was surprised at her change of behavior.

Marian ordered for all her favorite meals and ate them with relish. She no longer moped in her room.

No, she couldn't waste the time she had to herself.

Where ever Papa, was, she wished him luck. From Nottingham to any large town would probably take a month, so Papa had probably reached his destination.

She couldn't wait until her father came home, then she could spend her days, pouring over her childhood and laughing with him.

It would be bliss.

(o) - O - (o)

Robin frowned slightly. He glanced towards his uncle who was managing to glare and smile at the same time. He inclined his head towards the stranger.

Robin swallowed and nodded. He took a step towards the stranger.

"Ah, so this is the infamous Robin of Locksley" murmured the stranger.

Robin froze.

He wanted to hear what this man said. His voice was deep and hypnotic. It seemed as though Robin had heard it before.

Perhaps in a dream.

Or the dream of a dream.

"I, though, know you as Robin Hood."

Robin's heart stopped beating. His breath quickened and his eyes blinked. Who was this man?

The man laughed, not unkindly, more of an old man's laugh then a wicked one.

"Robin, we've met before. I think you'll remember me."

Robin was fully alert by now. His boredom was vanquished by curiosity and (perhaps) fear?

He stepped closer to the man.

"Who are you?" he whispered, trembling.

The man swung around and flipped his hat off, his eyes glinting.

"Hello, Robin Hood, we meet again."

**AN: Ooh! Cliffhanger! I know I'm evil. Review and I'll give you the next chapter! I have it all in my head!**


	10. Hearts Linked

Chapter Ten:

Robin gasped.

He disbelieved his eyes.

How could it be? What was he doing here?

As he wondered, the reality of it sunk in. He lunged forwards and seized Lord Fitzgerald's shoulders.

"How is Marian? Is she all right? Why hasn't she been answering my letters? Has something happened to her?"

He shook the shoulders manically and a hungry glint shone in his eyes.

To his surprise, Lord Fitzgerald started chuckling. In all the time that Robin knew him he had never chuckled…or even smiled for that matter! After his chuckles had somewhat subsided a little, he faced Robin with solemnity etched on his face.

"Marian is unhappy. There are many reasons why she is unhappy."

Robin leant forwards as if to grasp Lord Fitzgerald's shoulders again, but was stopped as Lord Fitzgerald continued.

"She is unhappy mainly because she thinks you have forgotten her. She has not received a single letter from you."

Robin frowned.

"How can it be? I write as often as I can! I mailed them all myself! How could she not receive them!"

Ignoring his outburst, Lord Fitzgerald continued.

"She is also unhappy because in two years, she shall wed the Duke's son, Francis."

Robin opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed.

He stumbled over to a nearby chair and collapsed into it.

Lord Fitzgerald spun around to face Robin with a fierce pride.

"The reason she has not received any of your letters is because I have burnt them all."

Robin twisted his head around and stared at his disbelievingly. He shook his head. Lord Fitzgerald smiled a little sadly.

"I have been blinded by greed and I have ignored my daughter. I have been wrong in so many ways, but I wish the happiness of my daughter more than anything else. I have come to you, seeking help. How can I make this right again?"

Robin sat, frozen, on the chair, shaking his head in rhythm .

Lord Fitzgerald looked on a little bit more then smiled again.

He rose, and bade Robin's uncle goodbye.

Robin still sat, shaking his head with his eyes closed.

(o) - O - (o)

Marian drank in the sunshine, inhaling the sweet air of the spicy grass dancing and waving around her. She twirled in a circle. It had been two months since her father's departure and she was sure he would be home soon.

She smiled at the forest in her line of view.

She mustn't.

Oh, but it was so tempting.

She ran at full speed towards the clump of trees. Then, she stopped. She was in front of a large oak tree.

Not just any oak tree, but the oak tree where she and Robin had met.

Against her will, a tear dribbled down a cheek.

She wiped it away hastily and smiled again.

Would it be so sinful to experience that kind of freedom again?

No, of course not.

Taking a deep breath, she hitched up her skirts and mounted the lowest branch.

Slowly, she worked her way up to the top.

It had been a few years since she last sat here. She still remembered their first meeting with excruciating detail. But remembering wouldn't be enough to make him think of her.

She breathed in the smell of healing and comfort as the smells embraced her and swirled around her mind. The sight below her was like visiting an old friend. It was beautiful.

She leant forwards, trying to take it in all at once. But she was taller than the last time she had been here.

Without warning, a creak emitted underneath her. It was followed by a sickening crunch.

Before she knew it, Marian was swallowed by the emptiness of leaves opening up underneath her.

She didn't have time to scream.

(o) - O - (o)

Robin curled up on his bed, Lord Fitzgerald's words echoing in his mind.

Marian.

He missed her so much.

There was nothing he could do.

She was engaged to the Duke's son. He would lose her forever.

Two years was very short compared to a lifetime.

He realised now how much Marian meant to him. She was practically his other half. It sounded so pathetic, but really, it made all the sense in the world to him.

He rolled over and looked sadly in front of him.

All he could think of now, was Marian. Marian. Marian. Marian.

(o) - O - (o)

Bernadette looked at the mail, there was another one from that Locksley fellow. She glanced around, hoping nobody noticed.

Since the master wasn't home, she was sure no one would notice her giving it to the young lady.

She had been so heartbroken.

Bernadette herself was aching for her when she saw Marian's red rimmed eyes.

She glanced around again and took a deep breath. She slid it inside her bodice and asked the butler where the young lady was.

"Oh, she went outside into the meadows some time ago. She still hasn't returned!"

Bernadette smiled.

Perfect.

She would be out where nobody would see them.

She thanked him and skipped out towards the meadows.

Funnily enough, Marian was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was lying down? Bernadette scanned the grassy ground.

No, no sign of her.

Grinning to herself, she realised Marian must have gone into the forest.

She tiptoed into the shade of the trees, waiting to give her a surprise. Then, she looked towards a magnificent oak tree to her right. There was a large branch that was broken off lying askew on the ground.

Curious, she leaned over to examine it, only to see a funny shape on the other side of the enormous tree trunk.

She stepped over and screamed.

There was Marian, blood pooling around her head, her hair matted with the stuff, her body crumpled and curled in odd places.

Bernadette felt sick and she ran as fast as she could back to the manor.

The blood pounded in her ears and she ran, even though her legs felt like useless rubber.

(o) - O - (o)

Robin sat up.

Something wasn't right.

He called for his uncle.

He came and frowned.

"What is it, Robin? I hope it's important."

Robin stood up, his eyes shimmering in the silvery moonlight. "Uncle, I wish to go back to Nottingham! Please!"

His Uncle snorted.

"I think even you know the answer to that! There is no way you are leaving in this crucial moment! Now, you'll be better off attending to your studies!"

He turned around and slammed the door shut behind him.

Robin sighed. There was nothing he could do.

All he could do was hope that the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach was imagined.

(o) - O - (o)

As Bernadette rushed through the kitchen door, the cook stopped her.

"The master is home! Where is the young lady?"

Bernadette gasped for breath and choked, "Where is the master? I urgently need to see him!"

The cook frowned and pointed a podgy finger towards the master's study.

Bernadette didn't stop to thank her, only hurried off in the correct direction. She skidded down hallways and floors, reaching the master's study in record time.

Smoothing her dress a little, she knocked quickly on the large wooden door.

It barely made a sound.

Desperately, she pounded on the door with her fists and shouted for the master. He opened the door with a look of concern.

"Bernadette! What is the matter?"

Bernadette clutched her stomach, panic hurling from her throat.

"Lady Marian! An accident! In Sherwood Forest! Now!"

Her words came out in short gasps.

That was all it took for Lord Fitzgerald to understand.

He pushed past Bernadette and ran. It had been a good many years since he had ran like this. He remembered running like this in his teenage years, trying to impress Rosemary.

Now, he ran for Marian. He ran and skidded to a halt where his daughter's crumpled body lay.

Tenderly, he picked her up and ran back, doing his best to not jar her.

Above him, the glinting sunshine disappeared behind some clouds.

(o) - O - (o)

Robin couldn't concentrate.

Outside his window, rain splattered the windows and the candle flicked briefly next to him.

All he could think about was Marian. He couldn't concentrate on the Latin verbs he was supposed to study!

Pushing the works aside, he placed his head in his hands and groaned. His headache was growing worse. He desperately needed to see Marian and explain to her. He needed her to understand that he would rush home right now if he could. He felt like a bird encaged in a foreign land. He just wanted to see her. Just one glance and he would be satisfied.

Would he?

No, he wouldn't be.

He would just want more. He was greedy.

The rain grew heavier outside his window.

Robin took out a fresh page of parchment and started to write.

(o) - O - (o)

The doctor closed the door behind him and pulled the Lord Fitzgerald with him into another room.

"She isn't looking good. It seemed that she fell a very long way and her face is bruised by branches. She has a broken ankle and wrist. There is a rather large gash on the side of her head and I cannot revive her from her unconsciousness. It isn't looking good. I advise you to be ready for the worst."

The Lord Fitzgerald clung to the doctor, tears swimming in his eyes.

"Please, do the best you can for my daughter. I don't mind the cost! She is my only daughter! My only child! I beg you!"

The doctor shook his head and sighed. "Lord Fitzgerald, money cannot buy health. I promise to try the best for your daughter, but the chances don't look so good. I'll try, I'll try. Please can you let you?"

He let go of the doctor and watched him stride out the door.

He sank to the floor, buried his head in his hands and cried.

(o) - O - (o)

"Robin?"

The uncle pushed open the door tentatively. The room was dark and quiet. He sniffed as a draft blew through the cracks of the walls. He always found this room to be awfully cold in stormy weather. How could the lad stand this?

The uncle called for a candle and waited, mulling over his thoughts. How foolish the lad was. He wanted to go back to Nottingham! In his dreams! He had great expectations for the boy and he would not be let down.

Just thinking about the riches he could gain from a fine political marriage brought a sinister smile to his wolfish face.

The candle was brought and the uncle waved the servant away.

"Robin?" he asked again.

The boy must be sleeping. Why else was this room so quiet? He entered the chamber and shone the light down on the bed. The blankets were folded to perfection. There wasn't a single wrinkle, nevertheless a human body. Feeling a twang of panic, he quickly shone the candle around the room.

There was an envelope on the boy's study table.

Confused, he picked it up and laid the candle carefully on the table.

Finding a knife in a drawer, he slitted the envelope open.

Inside was a note from Robin.

He scanned it quickly, then spat at it angrily. He grabbed the candle roughly and swept from the room, his cloak rustling against the floor.

The note fluttered (now slightly dampened) to the floor.

_Dear Uncle,_

_I am sorry if you miss my presence in your abode. I apologise for my flighty behaviour. I tried to explain how much I needed to be in Nottingham. Perhaps I didn't explain thoroughly enough. The feeling extends beyond want. It is a need. I have left without a word because I know you would forbid my exit had I told you face to face. I asked you, sir, but I'm afraid you do not see why I need to depart so desperately. Marian is in trouble. I can feel something in my heart. I will not rest until I can find out what. Please excuse my abominable behaviour. I, too, am disgusted with myself. But I have to go. I promise I will be back as soon as I can. Please explain the best you can in my absence._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Your Nephew Robert of Locksley._

**AN: I'm sorry it took such a long time to update. My whole computer system crashed and I couldn't even start it up. I have finally fixed it, and shall give you the next chapter as soon as I can!**


	11. Interrupting the Peace

Chapter Eleven:

Lord Fitzgerald had lost sense of time.

There was no time anymore.

All through his days, he stayed by Marian's side. He was aware that when he was hungry he ate, when he was tired he slept for few moments beside his daughter. Bernadette spoke to him in quiet tones, but he couldn't hear her.

He couldn't hear anything apart from his daughter's ragged breathing.

Francis wanted to see Marian, but Lord Fitzgerald refused him entry. The Duke couldn't do anything about it.

The Lord would not relent.

Many times, the servants gossiped amongst themselves about the young lady's condition and how the Lord was wasting away.

After a while, everyone had given up hope for Marian to wake up, but Lord Fitzgerald refused to hand over his daughter to death.

One morning, Bernadette crept softly into the chamber, hands folded tightly together.

"My Lord Fitzgerald, there is someone for you."

Lord Fitzgerald didn't even bother looking up.

"Send them away, whoever they are."

"My Lord, I think you would want to see this person."

Defeated, Lord Fitzgerald gazed at Bernadette with swollen and bloodshot eyes.

"Who is it?"

"He's outside in the parlor."

Shakily, Lord Fitzgerald rose to his feet for the first time in weeks. He wobbled around for a few moments before gaining his footing and stumbling towards the door. Bernadette made as if to support him, but he shook her off impatiently.

In the parlor, a young man's back faced him. Lord Fitzgerald called out, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man turned around.

It was Robin.

He reached for the Lord. "My Lord, where is Marian? I simply must see her. I've had this horrible, unsettling feeling in my heart since some time ago. Where is she?"

At the mention of his daughter, a stray tear trailed down the Lord's cheek.

Robin felt something was amiss.

"My Lord Fitzgerald? Where is Marian?"

Robin's voice rose to an uncertain waver.

Lord Fitzgerald beckoned for Robin to follow him. He did so silently.

When they entered Marian's bedchamber, Robin stopped dead in his tracks.

"Marian? Marian? Oh, dear God. Marian?"

He leapt forwards to kneel beside Marian and clasp her white hands.

Robin cast his stricken face to Marian's father.

"My Lord Fitzgerald, whatever has become of Marian? Why is she like this? How can she wake up?"

Lord Fitzgerald shook his head slowly, more tears filtering down the crevices of his face. Robin sank back onto the floor, light hair brushing Marian's cheeks.

"There was… an accident. The oak where you two met… Marian went to sit on it. But it was weathered and the branch snapped off…" Lord Fitzgerald trailed off, not needing to say anymore.

Robin let out a cry and laid his head against Marian's hands, tears coursing down his face too.

And so the two men cried over the girl that they both loved so much.

(o) - O - (o)

"I refuse to give up hope." Robin defiantly stated this to Lord Fitzgerald.

They were beside Marian in her bedchamber, neither willing to spare a moment away from her.

Lord Fitzgerald agreed with Robin. "No, we must never give up. We must not lose her."

"What other doctors have you found?"

"The best ones."

"There's a good doctor of my acquaintance down in Derbyshire. Would you like me to send for him?"

"A good doctor? What's his name?"

"Doctor Lewis. Doctor Timothy Lewis."

"If you could send for him I would be most thankful."

"No need to thank me. I also wish to help Marian in whichever way possible."

(o) - O - (o)

Bernadette burst into Marian's chamber, startling the two men there.

"Master Robin! Oh, Master Robin!" she gasped.

"What is it Bernadette?"

"It's your Uncle!"

Robin stood up abruptly, loathing etched clearly on his face.

He stalked out of the room. Lord Fitzgerald hesitated only shortly before following him.

The Uncle was standing in the parlor, his gold-tipped cane leaning smartly against his right knee. He turned around when Robin entered the room.

"Nephew! What on earth do you think you are doing? Come back to Derbyshire at once!"

"No, Uncle. I left Marian once and I shall not do so again. Especially not when she needs me."

At this point, Lord Fitzgerald had also entered the parlor. He greeted Robin's Uncle formally.

"Robin has been of great comfort to me. I would greatly prefer if he stayed here until Marian woke up."

"Yes," retorted the Uncle, "but what if she never wakes up?"

At his words, both men lunged towards the Uncle, anger flashing in their eyes. "She will wake up" yelled Robin.

"Don't you dare say she won't" cried Lord Fitzgerald.

Just as the situation seemed to be as bad as it could be, the door was flung open to reveal the Duke and Francis.

"My Lord Fitzgerald…" The Duke trailed off when he saw the ugly scene unfolding in front of him. Then, he recognized Robin.

His eyes narrowed.

"You… the Locksley boy!"

Robin looked at the Duke.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

The Duke glared back at him.

"My son is Marian's fiancé."

**AN: Wow, I really haven't updated in ages. For that, I apologize. Please enjoy this chapter and know that I have not forgotten this story. I still love it. Robin/Marian will forever be one of my favorite pairings. But for now, wait for my next update and review while you're at it. You never know, it might make me update faster!**


	12. Awakening

Chapter Twelve:

Robin stood still, struck dumb with surprise for a moment before glancing at the face of Francis. Francis was very handsome. Robin felt sick. "Marian's fiancé?"

"Yes," replied the Duke shortly. He then proceeded to shove Robin out of the way and march up to Lord Fitzgerald. "I have heard about Marian, dreadful news, terribly sorry I couldn't come and visit earlier. Francis and I had business to attend to in London." Lord Fitzgerald looked awfully tired all of a sudden. "Where is Marian?" asked Francis. "I have been pining to see her."

_You don't know what pining is, Francis_, thought Robin angrily. But he was jolted from his thoughts by the tugging (and not very gentle tugging, either) on his arm by a very disgruntled Uncle, although his uncle had the decency to not cause a scene (that, and he recognized just who was the underdog here).

"Marian… is still unconscious, I'm afraid," said Lord Fitzgerald wearily, sinking into a nearby chair. "The physician has said it would be best if she were not to be disturbed. And Robin has been kind enough to fetch a Doctor Timothy Lewis from Derbyshire for her." At this, the occupants of the room turned to look at Robin. Uncle immediately ceased his tugging. Robin cleared his throat. "We all want the best for Marian."

"Of course. That goes without saying," sneered the Duke pityingly. Francis stepped forwards a little, "I don't believe we've met. My name's Francis. Francis Milberg. My father," he nodded in the direction of the Duke, "is the Duke of Milberg." He shook hands with Robin. "Locksley. Robert of Locksley, but everyone calls me Robin," replied Robin. He felt sure that if this young man were not the fiancé of Marian, they could have been great friends.

At this moment, Bernadette rushed into the room. "My Lord, a Doctor Timothy Lewis for you." Lord Fitzgerald promptly rose from his seat and strode to the door to greet the entering doctor, a worldly-looking small man with an abundance of wispy white hair and wrinkly skin. His voice was raspy when he spoke. "I am Doctor Timothy Lewis. There was a young lady afflicted that I was summoned for, was there not?"

No more needed to be said, the good doctor was immediately escorted to Marian's room to examine her.

(o) - O - (o)

"You love her."

This question threw Robin off guard. He and Francis had been seated outside in the garden, silent in their worry for Marian. Their fathers and uncles had chosen to remain inside after it became apparent that neither party were about to leave (with the exception of Robin's Uncle - forced to stay by his nephew).

"What did you say?"

"I said that you love Marian."

Robin blinked and brought his gaze to meet the one of Francis. "Yes, I do. I don't believe in dishonesty, so I shall honestly say that I love her very much." After a fierce contest of stares, Francis looked away and sighed. "I thought as much. I do too, you know; very much. She really does mean a lot to me. In the time that I have gotten to know her, she has completely enchanted me. I lied earlier, I knew who you were the moment I set foot in the door. You're the famed Robert of Locksley. You're the Robin Hood that Marian was always murmuring about."

Robin didn't speak, he was afraid to. He only closed his eyes and waited to hear the rest.

"Never a day that I spent with Marian did she forget to mention you in some way. Not outright; never outright. But she'd close her eyes like you are now and remember something you said and accidentally say something about this 'Robin'. I knew, then, that she loved you. I knew that her heart had no space for me. But I hoped and I waited and I proposed.

"I proposed for many reasons: I love her like nothing else in this world, I want to make her happy, I enjoy her companionship. But my father also strangely supported the union with overwhelming fervour. In fact, he had introduced us from the very start. I thought it was a bit strange, so I looked through his documents and I found this."

Francis pulled a neatly folded piece of parchment from his coat and Robin looked on. Unfolded, the parchment became a contract penned with the agreements that should Marian marry Francis, Lord Fitzgerald would receive a third of the Duke's estate, and the Duke would, in turn, receive the Lord's title. It seemed a fair exchange and the contract was signed by both involved parties.

Francis gave a bitter laugh. "You know, Robin, I envy you. You may not have the fairytale life, but not many of us do. You have freedom and you have love. You have so much potential for a fulfilling life. I have this," and he waved the parchment. "This is my life, right here. My father will control everything until the day he dies. By then, I will have become a cruel, heartless man, just like him, and I will control my son's life as he does mine. But you can escape, Robin. You can have it all and run. And I believe everyone with the opportunity for happiness should take it."

He then tore the parchment into rough squares. He looked at Robin, understanding and a helpless pleading in his eyes.

"Make Marian happy."

(o) - O - (o)

Time passed in the strangest of ways for Marian. She seemed to be floating through a pool of her memories, strange pictures playing in different speeds with heightened colour and dazzling brightness. She was one, she was three, she was ten, she was twelve. She couldn't keep track anymore. She was Marian and she was not. She was young, she was old, she was falling.

And suddenly, so sudden that she really only blinked to miss it, she wasn't floating anymore. She was most definitely lying on her bed, swathed in bandages and looking at the worried face of her father. But everything hurt. The pain, which had been dulled by the colour, came rushing back with magnificent speed and she almost cried from the aches rumbling within her body.

"Marian? Dear God, Marian! She's awake! She's awake! Bernadette? Fetch Robin! Fetch the doctor! Oh, thank heavens! Marian!"

Oh, surely she was still floating. For she was almost certain her father had said Robin. And with that fact firmly lodged in her mind, she rolled her eyes back into her head and willed the sleep to come once more and take her away from the pain.

(o) - O - (o)

The doctor straightened as far as his form would allow. "My Lord, she is merely sleeping, nothing to be worried about. She is no longer unconscious, but I do suggest giving her as must rest as possible. She will need this time for recuperation. So, no visitors, no excitement. She must remain calm and peaceful."

With that, Lord Fitzgerald breathed relief from his nose and wobbled back out Marian's room. His immense joy at her awakening had morphed into immense panic at the sight of her unconscious form once more. Robin had to fetch Dr. Lewis quickly before he almost became hysterical, certain that his daughter would leave him just as his wife had.

Then, he heard vague shouting echoing from outside in the garden. Angrily, he marched out to tell whoever was shouting that his daughter needed rest and quiet. It was the Duke. He was brandishing some squares of paper at Francis who also had some squares of paper and was tearing them up into smaller pieces and flinging them into the wind.

"Gentlemen, my daughter requires rest. May I ask you to take your disagreements elsewhere?" Lord Fitzgerald rubbed his temples despairingly. The two men looked at him.

"Lord Fitzgerald, is Marian well?" asked Francis. At the Lord's assent, he continued. "I feel prone to tell you that my engagement to Marian has been cancelled." Lord Fitzgerald could not have been more surprised. Not even when the Duke lunged for his son, not even when Francis punched his father, not even when the two left, paper scraps littered on the lawn.

No, not even when Francis clasped Robin's hands and said, "Take care of her. Please."

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: Well, it really has been a while. Another short chapter, but an update all the same. I have been procrastinating for God knows how long, but was prompted to update by two things…**

**I watched Ridley Scott's **_**Robin Hood**_** recently. Not bad, but could have been better. I suppose I was pining for a younger cast (like, maybe Russell Crowe in his **_**Gladiator**_** years).**

**ifeelfreaky sent me a review telling me she'd read this twice through and could I get a move on? So here's my apology to you, ifeelfreaky (and all other readers) for my long absence.**

**I like Francis. He is not the villain of the story. And no, Robin and Marian are not getting their happy ending yet (sniff). There is more drama to come and I have a rough outline of where this story is going. But I will finish it, I am adamant, so please bear with me. Thank you.**


End file.
